


Long Live the Empress

by viksherenqueer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Multi, Murder, Rebellion, Torture, Vomit Mention, ill add ships as i go, rebellion AU, rebelstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viksherenqueer/pseuds/viksherenqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terrorism is becoming a major problem on Alternia, and the Empress is none too pleased. Karkat, Tavros, and Terezi bound together to rise a rebellion that will go in history books for sweeps to come and dismantle a corrupt empire after the murder of their friend and former heiress Feferi Peixes. A tale of loss, the balance of powers, and the struggle of fighting for the things you believe in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Architects

**Author's Note:**

> this story is a rewrite of another story i did a long time ago where you can find [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/400694/chapters/660281) bc i really loved the concept but my old writing is horrible  
> most of the chapters wont be as long as the first and i changed most of the kids into trolls since humans dont exist in this fic considering the game never happened  
> also im very lame so each chapter is going to have a song title as the name  
> [here is a link to the song the first chapter is based off of](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iXTHmE37X_Q)

_Do you still believe in all the things that you stood by before?_  
_Are you out there on the front lines, or at home keeping score?_  
_Do you care to be the layer of the bricks that seal your fate?_  
_Would you rather be the architect of what we might create?_

**Tavros:**

Lifting the weights overhead again, your muscles begin to strain, pulling like elastic underneath your flesh. This sensation was expected, bringing the weights down, close enough to bump the tip of your nub and almost make you smile. The layer of sweat felt slick and hot on your skin, forcing you to grip the bar all the tighter. Air meshes through your veins thickly; fierce yet empty determination bringing about several more lifts before you gave up. A mitt rests above your pectorals, letting the hot air sting in your throat before you decide that turning on the air conditioning would be beneficial. 

You sigh, slowly sitting up and ignoring the ache that came with a long workout session. Moving to your feet, you center your balance and head off into the ablution chamber. Leaning down over the sink, you cup your hands and let the water splash up and against your muzzle. It’s refreshingly cold, but has the odd taste of chemicals and cleaning products that most of the water around here was purified with. It makes you miss your old hive, despite having left that behind a good four sweeps ago.

After a long moment, you cup your fingers under the water and watch it slop around in the makeshift bowl, spilling over the edges and clattering into the sink. The brown tint to your grey skin shows with obvious pigmentation and genetics. Your hemostatus is clear, as it had always been. Nobody could look at you and see anything other than a fudgeblood who didn’t know his place.

And honestly, you weren’t quite sure you ever had a place to begin with.

You toss that thought to the side and bring your cupped hands to your mouth carefully, slurping down the water noisily and sighing as the cool liquid swishes down your throat and sends a shiver through your chest.

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you, don’t drink the goddamn sink water!” You nearly jump out of your skin, having not even heard the shorter male enter. Normally he was slamming doors and stomping about, just wanting to be heard, but apparently not today. That meant something was up, and it was bad. “It’s not filtered nearly as well as the water that, you know, is meant for you to pour down your proteinchute with that obnoxious as fuck noise.”

“Karkat, not that it’s any of my business,” that was a joke, of course it was your business, “but why are you in my block?” You retrieve a towel from its peg on the wall, wiping the liquid away from your hands and sweat from your brow. You lean carefully on the doorway, flexing the toes of one robotic foot. 

“Why the hell does it matter to you? I’m like fucking royalty in this joint, can’t anyone just let me be wherever the hell I please? Is that so hard to ask?” He glowered, looking at you with a glare that didn’t meet his eyes. Something was up.

“Do you have something to tell me or not?” You let a brow arch hesitantly. You were never a big fan of Karkat Vantas, but working together had put a huge strain on your relationship. And with your auspistice always away on her own important endeavors, conflicts weren’t exactly few and far between.

He stared at you for a long moment, before swallowing stiffly. “The Battleship Condescension landed this morning.“ He admitted after a long moment and you stop in your tracks.

“So she’s on the planet?”

“No fucking shit!” Karkat throws his arms up like that should’ve been obvious. “The news is leaking shit of her planning on doing a broadcast of some sort, but they don’t have a time set up yet. It’s probably going to fucking hit us out of nowhere.”

“How’s the 009? Think it could risk a trip back to planet?” You inquire, digits pushing a sweaty lock out of your line of vision. After the last attack, your ship, the Aeolos 009 sustained quite a bit of damage, bits of shrapnel scratching along the sides and tearing metal shingles off the outer body like papers in the wind. The metal exoskeleton had been exposed, and several trolls had been swept into the debris and into the endless realm of stars and space. It had been a major loss to the team, at least emotionally. 

His scoff was more than enough answer.

**Terezi:**

Numbers, buttons, letters, all processing through your brain at the speed of lightning. It was a shock you hadn’t noticed it sooner. An email sitting in your inbox, towards the top and timed from about five minutes ago. Clicking it, the nauseatingly familiar mess of fuchsia and sparkles was an eye sore to say the least.

  


There was a standard image located in the top left hand corner of each email from the empress herself, a mess of sparkles and acronyms. Blingee was obviously her best friend, and the two of them got along swimmingly. Punintended.

herimperialswaggmaster@dontfuckwithme.com  
RE: shit ma beaches we got a problem  
aight so we got a straight up ISSU-E ON OUR FUCKIN )(ANDS. well all yall lil fucks do but that aint the damn point. some mofos are trying to clam the fuck up and straight up diss a bitches right to rule. we got some MAJOR motha fuckas on our hands that need to be dealt wit. i had to fuckin return to the damn planet so yall fucks can get some shit done

now to explain whats goin on if you dumbfucks havent even realized it Y-ET. were under attack, all cod damn fuckin hands on deck because my ship has sustained damage and we is back for repairs. the fact that some fucka could even get close enough to damage my ship is whats got me angling towards cullin the whole fuckin lot of yall that are to blame.

since im a nice queen and all dat jazz, i aint gonna do that. but get your basses in gear. a whole bunch of yas gotta meet up w/ sum of ma otha officers in charge.

Attached: this is a map fo all of you dumbfucks.png

the circled spot is where i expect all lower ranking officers to meet. higher ranks will be informed separately. get yo boats in gear motha fuckas. we got a war on our hands.

-)(IC

Arching a brow, you slip your fingers under the rim of your eye covers and rub at the orb, ignoring the awkward sensation that came with it. You were exhausted after a long day, and a meet up wasn’t something you were looking forward to. Luckily for you, it was only lower ranking officers. You, Legislacerator Pyrope, were no such. A little farther up your inbox, was another email with the same ugly header.

  


RE: shit ma elite beaches we got an even bigger problem  
so you thought shit was hittin the fan wit the terrorists and stuff )(A)(A I FUCKIN WISH. we got a fuckin phenomenon on our hands.

now as yall all know we have some probs in the haps with gl’bgolyb and all since feferi kicked the bucket (dont get yalls fuckin knickers up in a bunch cuz of some loose metaphor). she been gettin ansty and lettin out a glub or two every now and then and thats part of the reason i returned to the palace.

but that aint the problem.

the problem is shes been real quiet the last couple days besides this mornin when she let out a total of three glubs and killed a large amount of slaves in the general area. nah i dont reely give a flyin cod damn fuck bout them, but its the reasonin behind it.

the reason she was all in a panic is because when i went to see her this mornin she was wit another troll. a mutant blood that goes by the name of rosena lalone. now my first assumption was that she was cull bait just like the rest of all of em dirty blooded little motha fuckas but nah gl’bgolyb had somethin to say about that. 

we ain’t got further plans for her quite yet. if she proves useful, then we might use her. this is the first time weve ever come across a pink one, plus shes a fuckin sea dweller. talk boat a royal disgrace.

You have to pause in your read because your highness just made a goddamn pun and it’s not even a fish pun and you literally lay your face down on the keyboard and shake your head. After a fit of cackles, you sit up and give a glance in the direction of your Trollian account. It’s flashing, meaning you have a message. Opening the system, you smile when that familiar yellow text graces your eyesight. 

 

\--twinArmageddons [ TA ] began trolling gallowsCalibrator [ GC ]--  
TA: have you checked your husktop. ii beliieve ii got all the bug2 out.

You almost replied with a mess of question marks, before catching on. Code. The chat’s being watched, apparently. Minimizing your internet tab, you stared at your desktop for a moment. The background was something simple, a mess of meowbeasts. Nobody would question it, but when you click on several points in the precise order, another program began running. 

To anyone else, it looked exactly the same was Trollian, but you knew better. Scrolling through the new online list, you almost clicked Sollux’s username, but he beat you to it. 

\--[ TA ] began trolling [ GC ]--  
TA: heard about the new mutant.  
TA: have you??  
GC: R34D1NG TH3 OFF1C14L 3M41L FROM H3R H1GHN3SS H3RS3LF 4T TH3 MOM3NT.  
TA: ii opened and read that well over fiive minute2 ago.  
TA: get your a22 iin gear gc.  
GC: SUCK MY BULG3 >;]  
TA: ii2 that a threat or a propo2iitiion?

You laugh, rolling your eyes at your almost-moirail and flip back to the email window. Might as well finish before he starts asking the real questions. He always quizzes you in the most bothersome way, even though he knows for a fact that he read the same information as you did. Especially when he was in one of his slumps, and he doesn’t even have the willpower to sum up enough motivation to have the idea of reading. 

were gonna keep up our investigations but its probs p damn futile. gl’bgolyb is throwin a cod damn fit. 

fuck this shit. im outie ya fuckas. P----EACE.

-)(IC

That was incredibly educational on every possible level. Obviously. 

TA: ro2ena lalone.  
TA: make2 me wonder what they’re gonna do two her.  
TA: and what the liiteral fuck wa2 2he doiing wiith gl’bgolyb, there’2 no way iin hell ii’d get wiithiin a miiliion miile2 of the fuck.  
GC: GLBGOLYB D1DNT W4NT H3R TO L34V3  
GC: H4SNT TH4T ONLY 3V3R H4PP3N3D W1TH L1K3  
GC: H31R3SS3S >:?  
TA: techniically gl’bgolyb ha2 never been expo2ed two anyone who wa2n’t of tyriian de2cent.  
GC: HOLY SH1T  
GC: TH4T SOUNDS L1K3 1T SUCKS M4JOR BULG3  
TA: 2ound2 lonely as hell.  
TA: other blood2 can’t hear what gl’bgolyb is 2ayiing.  
GC: M4YB3 TH1S W31RD MUT4NT CH1CK C4N?  
TA: 2he doe2 2eem pretty hiigh up there, iit’2 a po22iibiiliity.  
TA: iif 2o, then 2he could mean a lot to her iimperiial biitch face.  
GC: H3R 1MP3R14AL B1TCH F4C3 1S L4M3  
TA: her iimperiial con2tiipatiion?  
GC: MUCH B3TT3R  
GC: GROSS3R, SUR3  
GC: BUT B3TT3R  
TA: ok.  
TA: 2o her iimperiial con2tiipatiion ii2 probably debatiing that at thii2 very moment, whiich mean2 we 2hould be able two fiind out 2ooner or later, ii’ll probably have to hack iinto her priivate me22agiing 2y2tem agaiin though.  
GC: NO >:[  
GC: L4ST T1M3 YOU 4LMOST GOT C4UGHT!  
TA: iit won’t happen again.  
GC: YOU DONT KNOW TH4T  
TA: ye2 ii do.  
GC: DONT M4K3 M3 B1TCH 4T K4RKL3S  
GC: 1 W1LL BR1NG H1M 1NTO TH1S  
TA: no.  
TA: thii2 ii2 my job gc.  
TA: and ii fully iintend on doiing iit no matter how fuckiing 2hiity iit ii2.  
\--[ TA ] ceased trolling [ GC ]--

You swear to god that you could flip your shit on that kid and it would all go in one ear and out the other. You are considering bringing Karkles into this simply because he seems more in charge than you do. Since you aren’t at the base a lot, you don’t get the amount of respect that Tavros and Karkat do. It’s bothersome in so many ways and sometimes you want to kick some of your underlings in the bulge and rope them around the neck until they get it through their tiny nogs that you’re above them. Sure, you could use this on Sollux, but demeaning your wannabe moirail isn’t exactly at the top of the list of successful pale flirting techniques that Karkat delivered to you when he first started seeing the signs.

You had chased his sorry butt down and given him hell about it, but secretly you were thankful. You had even tried the few on the list that seemed the least vomit inducing, and though Sollux didn't react to all of them, some seemed to strike well with him.

Honestly, you saw a bright future ahead for the two of you.

**Nepeta:**

Heavy footfalls ring loud in your ears, causing them to perk up. Someone was approaching, and at a quick pace it seems. That never spelt good news for you. Shutting down your husktop quickly, you tuck it under the secret compartment along the side of your recuperacoon. Other had been known to sneak into the lowerblood's rooms and trash their things, despite how trivial it was. That's just how things went, even it was unfair, it was just life.

You had been forced to learn this quickly, unfortunately. You had spent a good ten sweeps believing that you could hide away in your cave, draw your ships and chat up your moirail for the next twenty-three sweeps or so. Then you'd die and the beasts would enjoy carving your bones clean and the circle of life would continue on with only your other half to miss you. 

That isn't how things went down, not even close. You hit ten and the benefits of adulthood were upon you. In your email inbox you had a long email from the Condesce with a file attached. A test, it seemed. You had until the next dark season (that gave you approximately three days over half a sweep) to fill this in and send it back, or a warrant for your arrest would be issued. That fooled nobody though, you'd be lucky if they even took you prisoner. More than likely, they'll just cull you on the spot.

You had filled it out as truthfully as possible, but it required you to see a health specialist and that meant a trip out of the forests and to the cities. You weren’t looking forward to this in the slightest, but you had been quite ecstatic when Equius had agreed to take a train down and meet you in the city. It had been a wonderful day, full of shopping and medical exams. Equius had opted to dish out the money for you, since he was practically swimming in the stuff and you didn’t really make any form of currency. Roleplaying and hunting didn’t exactly rack in the dough, but you usually were able to easily provide for yourself so it wasn’t an issue. 

You hadn’t expected your life to change so much after that. You had sent in your forms, replied to all the emails, taken all the tests. All had seemed well, and for weeks on end you somehow managed to convince yourself that nothing was ever going to change. You spent your time happily chumming it up with Tavros and telling Vrwiskers that she needed to go easier on the poor guy. It had been a happy time.

The first thing that really set off the alarms in your head is when they came and took Gamzee. You didn’t even know that happened until a couple days after the fact. Tavros nor Karkitty had been online for a good two weeks, and you were getting seriously worried. And Aradia was being so mysteriously vague that you felt sick. You wondered if they had culled Tavros for his disability. You wondered what happened to Karkat, and why wasn’t the clowny boy ever online anymore? Sure, you two hadn’t talked a lot but you’d say hi to him on occasion, though Equius didn’t like you talking to him. He was no real threat though, so sometimes you’d go against your moirail’s orders and strike up a conversation with the boy. 

Finally Karkat logged online after what had seemed like forever, and you could remember most of the conversation off the top of your head.

\--arsenicCatnip [ AC ] started trolling carcinoGeneticist [ CG ]--  
AC: :33 < *ac purrounces on her friend worriedly!*  
AC: :33 < *ac also bats karcat with her paws angrily for worrying her like this!!!*  
AC: :33 < where have you even been???? ive come up with evfurry pawsible situation in my head but nobody will tell me anything!  
AC: :33 < is tavros alright?? and what about you??  
AC: :33 < are you there?  
CG: NEPETA PLEASE.  
CG: I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN EVEN HANDLE THIS RIGHT NOW.   
CG: I JUST.  
CG: A LOT HAS HAPPENED.  
CG: NEITHER ME OR TAVROS IS HURT IF THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT.  
CG: WE’RE BOTH ALIVE AND SHIT.  
CG: DOES THAT MAKE YOU FEEL ANY BETTER BECAUSE I STILL FEEL LIKE I’M GOING TO PROJECTILE VOMIT UNTIL MY VASCULAR BLOOD PUMP MAKES A HEAVING HOP OUT OF MY GODDAMN CHEST AND GETS FRISKY WITH THE FLOOR.  
AC: :33 < well what happened?? if neither of you are hurt then why did you guys suddenly disappear??   
CG: LIFE MUST SEEM SO EASY IN YOUR HEAD.  
CG: IT MUST BE SO GODDAMN CLEAR IN THERE, WITHOUT ALL THE WORRY AND FEAR.  
CG: THINGS ARE CHANGING NEPETA.  
CG: AND IT SURE AS FUCK ISN’T FOR THE BETTER.  
CG: THIS ISN’T LIKE MY FUCKING ROMCOMS WHERE BAD STUFF HAPPENS BUT IT’LL ALL GET BETTER IN THE END BECAUSE TROLL GODDAMN SERENDIPITY SAID SO.  
CG: THIS ISN’T A MOVIE WHERE SOME SUPERHERO IS GOING TO KILL ALL THE BAD GUYS AND SAVE THE DAY.  
CG: THIS ISN’T A BOOK WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER IS THRUSTED THROUGH SO MUCH BULLSHIT JUST SO THEY CAN COME OUT VICTORIOUS AT THE END.  
CG: THIS IS REALITY.   
CG: WHERE THERE ARE NO MAIN CHARACTERS AND ONLY THE GOOD PEOPLE DIE.   
CG: BYE NEPETA.  
\--carcinoGeneticist [ CG ] ceased trolling arsenicCatnip [ AC ]--  
\--carcinoGeneticist [ CG ] began trolling arsenicCatnip [ AC ]--  
CG: THEY RECRUITED GAMZEE.  
CG: I’M NEVER GOING TO SEE HIM AGAIN.  
\--carcinoGeneticist [ CG ] ceased trolling arsenicCatnip [ AC ]--

It all slowly started going downhill from there. You were taken from your cave, and the worst part was having to depart with your dear lusus. Sure, you knew Pounce De Leon could hunt and survive on her own, but that didn’t make it any better. You complained to Equius later that you might never see her again. He assured you that you WON’T ever see her again. You didn’t talk to Equius for two whole days after that. 

Soon after you were deported to one of the major cities and loaded onto a war-feeding ship. It was a lot like school-feeding, but instead of educating you in general, it specialized you in defense and offense. You would’ve become a lowly soldier like the rest of the green bloods (oh god, that sounded fantastic right about now), but your moirail had other plans for you. With his influence, he swore you were a more than qualified soldier to work in the higher ranks with the blue bloods where he could keep a closer eye on you. Of course this didn’t start out too bad. You and Equius got to shared a block and a coon, and took classes together and in general were happy. Sure, all the work left you little time to talk to your friends, but the overtime with your moirail was making up for it. 

But Karkat was right. The happy times don’t last. Equius, with his high ranks and pure Zahhak bloodline, gained a high position with the other royal blue bloods in a craft that specialized in running important tasks for the queen. You, on the other hand, were assigned to a mostly blue blood soldier ship, a needle in a stack of needles. This ship was filled with some of the best soldiers the army had seen, and some of the worst, and you are still stuck on it to this day. You’ve had a promotion or two, but nothing to brag about. And you never see your moirail anymore. He calls you a lot, every night even, and he always seems close to ecstatic. It’s so odd for him to be so happy, and you realize he’s been given something that you could never fulfill for him. He has a place, overlings and underlings, people to boss him around and people to boss around. That was his dream in life, and you couldn’t give that to him. You loved your moirail, but sometimes he really made you cry and he didn’t even know it because you didn’t have the heart to tell him.

You take in a deep intake of breath as the door to your block opens, and you salute the sorry excuse for a soldier who somehow is higher than you in rank. “Leijon,” he starts and waves you along to follow him. You simply nod, collecting yourself and following at this tail in an attempt to look eager. “We have brought in another brown blood for questioning. We believe they are part of the terrorists organization that has been wreaking havoc amongst our empire. We believe through certain forms of torture, we can extract some information from her. She’s probably an underling, so she can’t tell us everything, but there’s gotta be something she can tell us. Anything at this point would be fan-fucking-tastic because I really would love to see the whole lot of terrorists culled on their knees.”

You felt your stomach drop. This, this is what you were dragged out for. This is what you’re always dragged out for. You hate torture, you hate torturing people and you hate the idea of torture. And every single blue blood on the ship knew it, so obviously it was always your job. Back when Equius and you worked together, nobody even considered messing with you. But now, now that Equius is far, far away on a ship on who knows what coordinates, and you’re stuck here, they are relentless. 

The metal corridors are long, pipes and fluorescent lighting lined the ceilings, and it all looked incredibly redundant to the point that you often got lost in the halls. You follow him closely, head down and quiet, until he pushes aside a set of double doors, punches in a keycode, a mechanical door slid into the top of the doorway and the two of you enter the dark room, the cliche spotlight over the brown blood’s head. She’s a petite thing, thin and feeble looking, but with a fierce look in her eyes. She had a fire that burns right below the surface, and you are sure that if you were to touch her, she’d probably burn your fingertips. 

“Aleesh Taarad,” the blue blood next to you starts. “Hatch # 78943, participated in two filial pails, has both concupiscent quadrants filled, and a thriving ashen quadrant, as I’ve collected. She’s twelve sweeps, lusus was a four tailed stinkbeast and she grew up on the south western hemisphere, not too far east of a wide range of grub lands. Passed school feeding with flying colors.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not even here.” Aleesh spoke up, head held high. She was quite the beauty, round faced and pale, with flushed cheeks and long, straight horns. Her hair was a mess of bouncy curls, and she had two large, chocolatey eyes that gave her a slightly child-like appearance. She was eyeing you funny, but that wasn’t different. You were the odd one out of the bunch. 

“Stop talking to me like we care that you are.” Mr. Highblood Asshole next to you replies, and you want to tear him a new one. All these patronizing ass faces, acting like they were so high and mighty compared to you. 

“You obviously care that I am here since you haven’t killed me yet.” She retorts, and you give her props. She’s got bite.

“Leijon, I believe a detachment is in order.”

You fucking hate that word. Detachment. That makes the practice seem almost mild. A detachment often preceded banishments. It was both a form of torture, and a punishment for breaking laws. Often, those on the receiving end, were strapped or tied down, and someone with a saw of some sort, slowly began sawing each horn off. Once the horns were gone, any remaining bits were filed down to the skull until there were no signs that horns ever existed. The victim was then set free to go into the wild and become feral, and could not rejoin society because it would be so obvious that they didn’t belong there.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?” You inquire. You know you’re barking up the wrong tree. “We haven’t even interrogated her yet.”

“Are you questioning my order, soldier?”

Please don’t talk back, please don’t talk back.

“Yes, I think I am, sir.”

You hate your big mouth sometimes.

He gives you a long look, before eyeing of the guards in the back of the room. “Jakaka, here, now.”

The blue blood looks up, before eagerly approaching the higher and having his orders whispered in his ear. You expected punishment, but when the knee slams into your ribs the way it does, you can’t say you saw it coming. The air rushes out of you as another hit slams into the spot between your ribs and your abs. When he hits you another time, its farther south, below the stomach but above the groin and you can’t stop to breath. When he hits you a final time, in the ribs again (and you swear you hear something break), he lets go of you and you crumple to the floor in a gasping heap. 

“Now, Leijon, are you questioning my orders?” His voice is condescending, and it felt like it was crushing your pride beneath it’s firm boot. Gasping deeply, you shake your head quickly and clutch at your side. It aches, and when you move, you are assured that it’s broken. A sharp pain rolls up your side and you feel sick again, licking at your chapped lips and sucking in shaky, even breaths. “Get up.” He orders, and you shake as you roll over onto your knees and slowly begin to push yourself up. It’s one hell of a process, and everything aches and it feels like needles are stabbing through the bones of your ribs and picking away at the marrow. You shakily find yourself on your feet and steady yourself, straightening your back and trying to hold onto the little pride that you have left. You tuck the pain away, and look your overling in the eye. He jerks his head in Aleesh’s direction and you realize that the second you let Equius pull you into this army, that was the second you were supposed to give up your compassion. You weren’t allowed to feel anymore.

So that’s what you did. You shoved all emotions and sensations aside and made your way over to the table, gripping the saw tight in your hand and you went to work. There was a lot of blood, lots of nerves that didn’t want to cut right, and most of all, lots of screaming. You had heard it all before, so you swallowed thickly and got it over with. And when both horns had clattered to the metal ground, and your fingers were stinging with a messy of red and orange splinters lodged beneath their surface, you got to work filing. Your fingertips were bleeding, but it wasn’t a big deal. It never was a big deal. 

When all was said and done, you think you hurt more than you did when you were still on the ground.

***

Back in your block, your pick angrily at the bloodied splinters beneath the skin, using your claws to pick the skin apart and yank them out. It’s gorier than you expected, but that’s what you get for expecting the best. You nearly jump out of your skin when the palmhusk in your pocket begins singing, and you take a deep breath. Pulling it out, only a diamond comes up on the caller ID. You stare at it, before setting it aside and letting it ring.

You don’t know if you can even handle this right now. 

 

**Gamzee:**

Salt fills your nostrils, and the blood drying against your forearms itches. The cheering though, the cheering builds you up and smashes you down all at once. The handle of the club felt like an extension of your arm, twisting and waving as you stood by and waited for another one. 

Another one stumbles out onto the barren dirt, eyes wide and terrified. He looks stupid. He looks like his oculars would fall out of his head at any moment and he’d clutch at the empty sockets and shake on his way down to the ground. You grin, before waiting for the blow of the buzzer. It was nice and loud, and a sound you were familiar with. It rung with a nasal sort of vibration, blasting out the eardrums of those who sat too close to it. 

Dust was kicked up into the air, as you glide over it’s surface. He manages to duck, taking a run a short whiles away before stumbling over. Your remove your club from the place where it smashed into the metal, forming an indent. That was almost his skull.

Turning around, you arch a brow at the greenblood. He puts his hands up shaking his head. “C’mon man,” he pleads, coughing lightly as dirt found its way into his oxygen sacs. “I was just listening to my heads, y’know. You always listen to the boss, right? Gotta have some respect for someone just being loyal.” He just kept on talking, but he had peaked your curiosity.

“Heads? And now, my most wicked of motherfuckers, “ you drawl, swaying your way over to him, crouching down in front of him. At eye level, you noticed the sweat that made it’s way down the sides of his face, and the dilation of his pupils, stuck deep inside of his skull. “Who the fuck got to commandin’ ye?”

Was that hope? You think so, but that’s rare and hard to recognize anymore. He perks up slightly, nodding like you had asked him something that could be answered without words. “We don’t know the heads real names, but we know their codenames.”

“Well,” you say after he’s quiet for a moment, “spill ‘em.” You grip your club a tad tighter, and when he notices he nods again, a bit too fervently. 

“They’re kinda stupid, but I think the leaders were all childhood friends or something.” He comments, and when he notices your impatience steadily growing, he swallows and begins talking. “413, that’s one of them, but they’re not around a lot. Uh, Break A Leg, they’re one of the most common ones who sends us messages. And um, Fifty Shades of Grey. They don’t send as many messages, but theirs are always the angriest. And longest.” He looks so hopeful, like he’s done something so wonderful.

You sit there for a moment, contemplating this. The nicknames sound so familiar, and they prick you the wrong way. Standing up slowly, he watches you closely. The crowd had grown quiet, like they had been listening in. But now, now they were booing. You were just standing there, and your fingers shook along the edge of the handles of your clubs. Spinning another one around in your mitt, you jerk your head up. “Get up.”

He looks confused, but nods a couple times and slowly works his way to his feet. He sways a bit, but some of the terror has drained from him. He looks more comfortable with you now, and that touches you the wrong way. The audience was silent now, contemplating how the next couple of moments were going to pan out.

“So, uh, man,” he starts, scratching the back of his head and feeling awkward. His stance tightens just the slightest, but your keen eyes catch it. He’s feeling antsy again, and when the smirk broke across your lips, you could smell the way the blood rushed to his brain. He turns on a heel, and books it in the opposite direction of you.

It was easy to pounce on him in a matter of moments, hindering his movement to the ground and towering over the smaller man. It was a rather messy culling, but the crowd cheered louder and louder, and your heart thumps in your chest faster and faster. The blood was hot as it was dispersed across the ground and across you. And before you fully were able to register what had just happened, you were on your way out of the stadium, grinning and bloody. A mess to behold, a power to fear. Everyone was cheering so loud, and it just felt so nice. They care. Every single one of them cares. They are so proud of you. 

“Shiiit, man!” Curius was on his feet as soon as you were through the door, giving you a high-five and grinning. “Fuck, that bitch screamed so motherfuckin’ loud!” He was laughing, and you couldn’t help but do the same. “That was sweet!”

“Heh,” you grinned again, brushing a bloody hand back through your untamable locks. “Just doin’ what the crowd wants, man. Kinda got caught up in the moment, lost shit then and there. Oh well, ain’t gots nothin’ to be done ‘bout it now.” You shrug, and eye curiously at the bluebloods that just entered the back room. One of them was a captain of his ship, with his blue vest in place over his dark dress shirt, and his series of metals pinned in a neat line down the length of his lapels. Next to him was an underling, one of the sub-captains of the ship. He probably managed an individual sanction of the ship, but he looks oddly familiar, but you can’t place him at first. He was a bulky gentleman, of about average height, clad in a dark blue vest and a shiny bow and a dark quiver, stocked with fresh and deadly looking arrows with unnatural blue feathers on each end. The set looked like it was made of some special metal, not the typical archradicator’s gear. His hair rested down against his shoulders, and sweat dripped furiously down his brow. He looked nervous, clenching and unclenching the fists at his side.

Traveling slowly behind them, a rather promiscuous red, heeled boot stepped in, followed by a tall troll, a blood color lower, with long, dark hair that swept behind her. There was an almost menacing feel to her entrance, the way her eyes moved around, scrutinizing everything in their path. Glasses set on her pale grey frame, along with two perfectly blued lips and a dark set of bangs that hung down in her eyes. She was a thin one, with a boney, sort of angled set and a terrifying grin that showed off far too many teeth to be possible.

“Where is he?” The girl inquired, her voice shrill and high, turning in a circle and seeking along the crowd of subjugglators that were ogling her.

“He shouldn’t be hard to find. I always imagined him tall and slightly off-putting,” the sweaty one answered in a rough voice.

“Huh,” she said, tapping her finger on her chin, “that just about narrows it down to about,” she counted off her fingers slowly, muttering numbers to herself, “everyone in this goddamn tent!!” She sounds exasperated, as she looks around again and suddenly jumped up along one of the stools and onto one of the many tables that sat in the room. “Hey!! Clown freakazoids!! Looky looky, I’m over here!” Waving her arms ridiculously, she settled them on her hips when she finally had everyone’s attention. “We’re looking for a troll, and you all are going to help us find this dumbfuck, so we can blow this dumbshit popsicle stand, because frankly, it smells.” Her cough to clear her throat was a tad too overdramatic for your tastes, and you sigh deeply, wondering why the hell both these trolls struck you as familiar. 

Uncrumpling a piece of paper from her pocket, she read it aloud. “Dear Sergeant-General Serket, we have informed both you and the captain of vessel Sirius 90210 that you are to immediately retrieve a troll for service to the queen herself. This is a very important mission, and if it is not completed properly, we will have no choice but to royally cull you.”” She rolls her eyes, looking chock-full of annoyance. Serket? That sounds awfully familiar. She finally continues her reading. “Once this troll is in your custody, alert the trolltag we’ve left below blah blah blah,” she trails off, eyes skimming down the paper before settling. “Below is the name of the troll you are to take into custody for service. Gamzee Makara.”

Wait, what the motherfuck? Suddenly, everyone in the whole goddamn room had their eyes on you, along with Sergeant-General Serket and Archradicator Sweaty Man and Captain 90210 of the S.S. TV drama. 

“About damn time!” The girl was down off of her table, and across the room in a heartbeat, gripping your wrist. “Time to go buddy!”

“Woah, woah, woah!” You yank back, taking a few fumbling steps back. “Now shit sister, the shit you even done up rappin’ on ‘bout? I done not understand a damn thing you just spoke, like what motherfuckin’ service am I to anyone important like that?”

“That’s none of my business, clownstink!” She threw her arms up, shrugging. “All I know is that you’re going to get on this sad little asshole’s ship willingly, or in a handcuffs, so come on!”

“Ahem,” the captain coughed, taking her place and pushing her aside. “My name is Captain Kermit Frogin, and I am the captain of the vessel Sirius 90210. The queen has simply ordered you be taken into custody to fulfill a mission, and you will be returned to wherever you may like afterward. Please, come with us willingly and we will have no issues. My Sub-captain Zahhak will help you with your bags.”

“Uh,” you glance at his sweaty hands and shrug. “I think I gots it all alright.” You swallow, not liking all the orbs on you, and the lights suddenly feel so much brighter. “Can my friend help instead?

“Whatever the hell gets you on the ship faster,” Serket finally mutters, rubbing her temples. You wave for Curius to follow you, leading him out of the room. A couple feet behind you were the mass of bluebloods.

“I swear I know two of ‘em,” you mutter to Curius, taking a deep breath. “Shit son, what if it’s like a dangerous mission?” 

“I think you’ll be motherfuckin’ fine, brotha,” Curius pats your shoulder eagerly. “It’s just a mission. They probably have you on culling duty for one of those fancy royal culls or somethin’. Doubt it’s anything worth worryin’ about, so chillax.”

When your block is reached, you tell the bluebloods you’ll meet them outside and head in, Curius shutting the door behind the two of you. You stare at your room, before gathering up your husktop and charger, and a good supply of Faygo, and fumble with some of your clothes. “Fuck, I don’t know how much to pack?”

“Take something nice incase you gotta like, go somewhere fancy.”

“I ain’t up to ownin’ anything that can be nice.” You sigh, yanking some clothes out of the closet and throwing them into the bag, hangers and all. Finally you captchalogue that mess, and find another box you usually leave in your closet, and captchalogue that as well. You turn, staring at Curius for a moment, and he held out his fist and you bumped that shit like you’d never see the motherfucker again. 

The trip to the ship was a short one, your legs felt stiff, and your throat dry, but you walked up the ramp into the craft. The girl walked in front of the group, her heels clacking on the metal ground and her body seething with impatience. She gave off this air of anxiousness that made you feel all the more uneasy. 

“You guys are sooooo slow!” She spoke the word like it brought her great discomfort, groaning afterward and giving you all a look. “Seriously!! Hurry your sorry asses up!! I need to call the empress A.S.A.P. and get her off my fucking tail!” 

“Then just go ahead; we have an eye on him,” Captain Frogin replied, with a bit too much bite. “He isn’t any trouble. Please, let the empress ease her nerves over the matter.”

“Ha!” She let out this loud, almost laugh-like bark. “Her fucking nerves, yeah. Seriously, I’m the one with the threat of a culling over my head and she’s the one with bad nerves! Yes, that makes total and complete sense! Please Captain, proceed to write every fucking novel for the rest of goddamn time with your unattainable brilliance!”

“Vriska,” the stocky archradicator spoke, swallowing back the annoyance that was building in his sweaty features. “Just call her.”

You stop mid-step, staring up as the gears in your head turn and click. Vriska. Vriska Serket. The Vriska Serket who FLARPed with your friends when you were younger, the Vriska who laughed and laughed as Tavros tumbled off the edge of his hive-side cliff, the Vriska who called you juggabutt until you two were five sweeps old.

Before you could manage words, she was gone, stalking off down the hall with her phone to her ear, yapping away to some secretary. 

**Rosena:**

Gasping and gasping, the guard yanked at the metal of your chains all the harder. You stumble, your feet desperately trying to keep up with the floor. You were being pulled backwards, and it was quite unpleasant, But suddenly there you were, spun around and pushed to your knees, and then prostrated on the ground helplessly.

“Whale, whale, whale.” The empress’ deep voice rang above you, followed by the shuffle of fabrics.

“I must say,” you start, clearing your throat, “I am uncertain as to why the topic of such large sea mammals is upon us, but I will happily indulge. I am sorry to say that I haven’t much knowledge of whales or their habits, but they are quite fun to sit on top of.”

“Are whales even mammals?” The guard mutters behind you, and the queen smacks the butt of her heel against the metal throne, to gain his attention.

“I don’t give an anglin’ fuck what the shit they are. I just want ya to listen to me you smart-ass lil’ bugga’.“

“I believe you mean ‘smart-bass’.” You counter, and you almost hear her brow shoot up her forehead. Suddenly, she’s laughing and you hear the jingling of jewelry as she pushes herself to her feet. 

“Put the lil’ fuck in a chair, and then fetch me a shake from the kitchen.”

“Um,” the guard said, as he pulls you to your feet calmly, “a shake?”

“Yes, the one slave, the one with the lil’ apron, makes these fuckin’ bangin’ ass milkshakes with seaweed and fish tails. That shit’s the bomb.”

The guard stared, obviously uncomfortable with the seawater that sat in the air and the diet of the finned trolls around him. He simply led you to your seat, before leaving the room. Two guards at the door stuck out their tridents in front of him, before saluting to the queen and pushing the doors open. They then spun their tridents around, causing a blur of gold and purple, before clicking the butts on the ground and allowing the other guard to pass. 

You attempt to clap your hands behind you, but your restraints just jingle and chafe. 

“Soo,” she rests into a shell-shaped chair across from you. The coffee table between you is silver accented, intricate hand carvings of seafoam curling against the floor. As the legs continued up the sides, glorious pirates and vicious mermaids were carved in perfection against the silver setting. Between the metal was thick glass, holding an endless supply of colorful fish, swimming in aimlessly boring circles. The sides were encrusted in small, murky glass carvings of barnacles and shells and sea stars; all of which would’ve been so terribly real if it weren’t for the fact that they were transparent. 

“So,” you reply. Her eyes are tantalizing and terrible, with slightly crinkled corners that gave honest truth to her age. She crosses one of her legs again, playing with the seams of her tights. 

“You disgust me,” she starts. “A disgrace we ain’t seen in centuries. Who the hell ever heard of a fuckin’ mutant seadweller?”

“Certainly not me, your majesty. Never thought about such a thing.” Your sarcasm was going to get you killed.

She simply stares at you for a little longer, before the doors open again and a gritty, green shake is placed in her hands. It smells like seaweed and it’s comforting. 

“We found your hive,” she says suddenly and your gut drops. She notices the change in your demeanor, and it lights her senses up maliciously. “A small lil’ get-up on the side of the ocean. Now, it’s so odd to see a bunch of redbloods all gathered in one house like that. I assumed they were your servants, but from the fuckin’ looks of it I’ve been gettin’ the low down that they were just a fuckin’ bit too leisurely chillin’ in your hive.”

You suck in a breath, but before words can leave, there’s the jingling of cuffs behind you. You turn, and the line of redbloods from your hive are wobbling in, feet cuffed together in long lines and hands cuffed in front of them, heads down. Davian is towards the middle of the line, glasses stuck to his face and his body completely calm. He was always so good at holding it together.

“Cull them,” she said suddenly, kicking her feet up on the table as she slurps at her shake. “On their knees, use a gun.” 

“No,” you turn to look at her, and back to them. They’re all looking up now, wide-eyed. You can’t breathe as the guards detach the first one in the row and pull him down to his knees. 

“Rosena,” he gasps and stares up at you, and before you can get to your feet the shot is fired. It’s loud, and his body slumps to the side. The group gasps, fumbling back and stumbling over each other in fear. You gasp and go to move, but suddenly you’re being forced around in your seat. Your knees are pressed into the fuschia cushions, and the Condesce’s fingers are holding your jaw tight, and her other hand knotted in your hair to hold your head straight. She was forcing you to watch. Her nails dig into your skin, and you take another loud gasp as they fight with another one of the restrained redbloods and push her down to the floor.

“Please,” you beg suddenly, your voice so quiet, so lost. “Don’t do this, please don’t do this. They didn’t do anything.”

“But they did, sweetie,” she coos so sickenly next to you, and the smirk is evident in her voice. ‘They shielded you from the world, they hid away somethin’ so vile and digustin’. These lowbloods here, these fuckin’ rustbloods are more of a troll than you’ll ever be.”

The troll girl on the floor had tears thick in her eyes, scurrying away as the guard followed her slowly, before putting the bullet through her brain. You sob aloud this time, tears breaking down your face and you try to thrash and free yourself; it’s futile.

“Stop,” the empress says suddenly and releases you, allowing you to fall back to the floor. You wiggle around, until you force yourself to sit up and stare. The guards are getting the lowbloods to stand, and a slave is now on the ground, working to clean up the not so nice results of the gunshots.

“Now,” the Condesce grins and sits down. “I want to happily cull the lot of y’all, but it’s just so coddamn messy. Look what you did to my fuckin’ carpet.” She picks up her shake despite her ‘disgust’, taking another annoyingly long slurp.

“Wait,” she arches a brow as she steps over the mess and examines the lot of chained trolls, each of them looking away from her gaze. “The fuck? Why is this one wearin’ coddamn sunglasses?”

“Well, ma’am,” Davian glances up from his spot, shrugging. “Got some wicked sick powers that I have to keep in check. Don’t mean to be upsettin’ anybody.”

“And what would those powers be?” She arches her brow.

“Well,” he shifts his weight from one leg to the other as you watch him, a habit of his. “If anyone happens to gaze me in my pretty lil’ eyes, they are suddenly overcome by my overwhelming charm and want to throw themselves at me.”

“Guard,” she spits in Davian’s direction, before taking another sip of her shake. “Remove those stupid fuckin’ things, throw them into the fire later.”

“Yes, my queen.” The tall guard leaves his spot on the wall, crossing the room and pulling the shades from Davian’s face. Davian’s alarmingly red eyes met his, and he froze in his spot. But then, suddenly, his lips were on your moirail and his hands sliding all over his chest and shoulders.

“Oh my glubbin’ fuck,” the Condesce was suddenly laughing, her shake now shattered and messy on the ground. She shook, overcome with a round of wondrous hysterics. “Suffererin’ H. Signless that’s fuckin’ vulgar. Cull that guard once this shit is over, won’t one of yas.” 

The two guards from the door make their way over, clutching at the dazed guard and pulling him away. One of them had the sense to return Davian’s glasses to his face, before they were off.

“Whale den,” the empress says, humming and debating to herself. “That’s a fuckin’ hilarious power.” She leans against her throne, watching as the slave quickly stumbles to wipe the milkshake up before it stains the carpet. She sighs, tilting her head back like she’s lost in thought. You pant quietly, watching her and pulling at your restraints. 

You can’t figure out what she’s thinking about, but she’s quiet for a such long time that you almost ask her if she forgot you were all there. You don’t want another culling though, and keep your eyes off your dead friends. 

“I have an idea,” she says suddenly and smirks. “Guards, get the lows outta here, ‘cept for the one with the glasses. Leave ‘im.”

You feel yourself panicking again, as all the lowbloods are escorted roughly from the room. Your throat feels like it’s swollen shut, and Davian is looking at you.

The empress took a seat in her sea-shell shaped wheely chair, feet kicking on the coffee table and sighing loudly. “Over here, sit down.” She commands Davian, and he follows as he’s told. A guard helps you onto the same couch, and you can feel Davian’s shoulder against yours. It’s comforting.

“I got myself a plan, you sea,” she starts quietly, fingers intertwined underneath her chin. “Guards, you’re dismissed.”

“But--”

“Do not argue wit me,” she hisses quickly and they’re gone within seconds. That kind of power is unsettling. “Anyways, I have got myself a fuckin’ plan but its got some nasty lil’ kinks.”

“Oh damn,” Davian mutters quietly and sits up straighter, “are you talkin’ about like, a weirdo sex slave threesome between us because damn give a guy a little more of a heads up.”

She was not looking amused, so you gave Davian a quick nudge with your elbow.

“These kinks more involve like, motherglubbin’ terrorists and Gl’bgolyb, so get your sorray shit togetha.” She hisses again, perfectly pruned brows resting above her eyes. “My plan involves weedin’ out the terrorists that have managed to glubbin’ dare to slip their flippers in the system, ya dig? I gots my peeps set on one of ‘em, but I need someone who can get a looksea from the inside.”

“Is that where I come in?” Davian inquires, leaning softly against your arm. He didn’t like this plan, you suspect. 

“Ye, you gots it.” She sighed, getting up and heading to a large seashell shaped laptop. She brought it back, typing her fingers along the keys with precise speed, before turning the screen towards you and Davian.

A picture of a woman was on screen. She had large eyes, hidden behind red tinted glasses and two slender horns that ended in vicious spikes. Your eyes quickly move to the words, scanning over them as fast as your mind can process. Terezi Pyrope is her name. She’s fourteen sweeps old, perfectly healthy, and was freshly promoted to the legislacerators, being one of the youngest to ever do so. She passed Law school with flying colors, even graduating early due to her high marks. Her hatch # was 98413 and she had a clean record. She owned a small personal ship, but no slaves or servants. 

“She’s hot,” Davian chimes with a shrug and glances up. “Who is she?”

“A terrorist who has infiltrated the system, I’m assuming,” you reply dryly. “She’s using her high placement in the fleets to access information for the rest of the rebels.”

“Ding ding ding, we gots ourshellves a winner.” The Empress chimed. “I am giftin’ the lot of you redbloods to her. Bein’ the fuckin’ ruler and all, she ain’t gonna turn me down.”

“So...” Davian trails off, brows arching and finally lifting his head to look at the empress. “What’s the plan exactly?”

“Y’all’s gonna be my spies.” She replies, leaning back in her seat and folding her arms behind her. “And my assassins, if necessary.”


	2. East Jesus Nowhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also idk if its been mentioned but terezi is not blind in this fic  
> (at least not """"""""""""yet"""""""""""""")  
> [also heres the song that goes with this chapter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3uA4cM1xrDI)  
> all hail troll green day

_A fire burns today_  
_Of blasphemy and genocide_  
_The sirens of decay_  
_Will infiltrate the faith fanatics_

**Vriska:**

You watch him, as he fiddles with his small palmhusk in frustration. Three times, He had tried three fucking times and the empty dial tone was getting annoying.

“Give it a rest,” you whine and he shoots you a look. “She’s probably sleeping or something. Y’know, it’s almost fucking daylight.”

“Aren’t we making one more stop?” He inquires, finally tucking the device away. “She should be awake. They don’t stop until daybreak.”

“Yeah, we’re landing now,” you say as you peer out the window at a large office building. It wasn’t often that your ship came this close to the planet, but sometimes pick ups in the city were necessary. She was on the way anyway. “You know who we’re picking up, right?”

“No,” Equius replies, his hand still over his palmhusk like he was waiting for a call back. He follows you closely, as you make your way through the metal halls with a large grin and down to the landing deck. The side panel was open, which usually opened for ships that were entering from the outer orbits. A smaller ship, usually used as a one or two passenger vehicle made it’s way up onto the loading deck, landing far left of where a troll with flags was waving her to. You wondered aloud if the ship had a block. “I believe those ships contain a small room with a single, wall-anchored recuperacoon and a miniature ablution chamber.”

“Gross,” you say as the door opens, and two sets of red boots hit the ground. Soon the door was closed, and your old best friend was in clear view. She tucked the keys away into her pocket, glancing up and smirking wide.

“Well damn!” She chimes as she starts in your direction. “I think we’re wearing the same boots, Mindfang.” She doesn’t stop until she’s right in front of you, mouth curling up at the edges and exposing her large jaw of razor sharp teeth.

“You always had to copy me, Redglare,” you smirk wryly, before each of you wrap a set of arms around one another. It’s been a long time, but she hasn’t changed much. Her body was still too pointy and her face was too many angles. Her eyes were squinty and bright and full of that monstrosity she calls justice. 

“So, what are you doing here anyway?” You finally ask, as you pull her towards the hall. Equius stays behind, once against preoccupied with his palmhusk. 

“I suddenly got an urgent email from the queen,” Terezi says with a shrug. “She told me this ship was going to stop by and pick me up, and I was to report to the palace as soon as the sun starts to set.”

“Weird,” you reply as the two of your head down the hall. You only give her a look when something appears in her hand, from her sylladex you presume. It’s a long silver chain, your with symbol in blue on the end.

“Here,” she says as she hands it to you. “I bought a ton of these for everyone back when our FLARPing was coming to an end. You left for the academy before I could give you yours.”

You eye the silver jewelry, before shrugging and putting it on, sliding your fingers under your hair and pulling it from under the chain. “Do you have one?”

“Yeah,” she says as she looks downward, yanking her collar open. You caught a glimpse of two chains, and you couldn’t help but feel a tad suspicious when she made the habit of yanking on one but carefully concealing the other from view. She flashes the little teal Libra symbol in your direction, grinning wide. “I had one made for Tavros and Aradia too, but I gave them theirs back before they left.”

Nodding, you lead her down to a block and show her inside. “Ignore any noises coming from next door,” you instruct and cock your head in the direction you’re talking about. “We picked up another old ‘friend’ and he’s to report to the palace in the evening as well.” 

She turns to you, brows perking up in confusion. “Who?”

“Remember clown boy?” You ask, taking a seat in one of the empty chairs in the guest block. “The Empress fucking threatened to cull me if I didn’t manage to find the guy and bring him to her. Plus, I found him in one of those nasty public culling arenas. He was getting paid to make a blood bath.”

“Don’t you get paid to do the same thing?” Terezi jokes, before glancing over at the wall. “That doesn’t sound like him, though. He was like king stupid of the idiot clown brigade. He’s the kind of fuck-up that would’ve buried a bumblebee he stepped on.”

“Something finally snapped, I guess!” You huff, throwing your arms up in frustration. “All I know is, if I hadn’t found him, I’d be dead right about now.” You finally yawn, stretching your arms up above your nog and cracking your back. “Fuck, I really should go and hit the coon. Hopefully the queen doesn’t hold you long tomorrow and we can catch up some more!”

“Yeah,” she said, eyes still on the wall, obviously distracted. You hate the way she looks. It’s like she knows something that you do not. 

You wish her a goodday, leaving her block and returning to your own. You didn’t know what it was, but you weren’t liking it. She laughed like she used to. She smiled like she used to. All her tells were there. Nothing had changed, yet... You feel like you didn’t know your best friend at all. 

**Terezi:**

Every part of you was saying that you shouldn’t do it, but how could you not? You couldn’t imagine the ache, the way it hurt deep down inside. Sucking in a deep breath, you finally opened Trollian on your palmhusk and clicked on a name you hadn’t bothered with in a long while.

\--gallowsCalibrator [ GC ] started trolling terminallyCapricious [ TC ]--  
GC: W3LL W3LL W3LL  
GC: 1TS C3T41NLY B33N 4 WH1L3 G4MZ33!  
TC: ey girl.  
TC: been a long motherfuckin while.  
GC: >:?  
GC: 1 4M CONFUS3D  
GC: WH4T H4PP3N3D TO TYP1NG L1K3 ThiSsssSSsssSsSssssSS HonKKkK  
GC: NOT TH4T 1M COMPL41N1NG, CONS1D3R1NG 1T W4S PR3TTY FUCK1NG 4NNOY1NG  
TC: heh.  
TC: just didn’t work no more.  
TC: ain’t up to feelin’ as right as it once got itself onto be, y’know.  
TC: some motherfuckin changes up in my pan got to sayin it was wicked wrong yo.  
TC: gotta listen to your own voices sometimes, ya feel?  
GC: ...  
GC: SUR3  
GC: TOO B4D MY VO1C3S DONT T3LL ME 4NYTH1NG 1MPORT4NT  
GC: 1TS 4LL DUMB JOK3S  
GC: NOT 3V3N GOOD JOK3S  
GC: WHY D1D TH3 GRUB POP OUT OF TH3 FR33Z3R?  
GC: 1T D1DNT W4NT TO B3COM3 4 POPS1CL3  
GC: H3H3H3H3  
TC: i got myself a goods one.  
TC: open up your listening ducts for this one.  
TC: your throat muscles will be shaking with pure whimsical mirth.  
GC: L4Y 1T ON M3  
TC: how many grubs does it take to paint a wall?  
TC: depends on how hard you  
TC: MOTHERFUCKING THROW THEM.  
GC: HOLY SH1T  
TC: damn girly.  
TC: you’re laughin with so much gumption that i swear to hell i can hears you right through this here wall.  
GC: TH4TS B3C4US3 1M ON TH3 OTH3R S1D3, DUMB4SS  
TC: naw.  
TC: you’s lying to a motherfucker, ain’t ya?  
TC: you still there?  
GC: CH3CK YOUR DOOR

You grin wide, tucking your palmhusk away into your pocket. Soon enough your hear footsteps. The door opens, and you’re a tad shocked. Before you is a tall highblood, with a smeared face of paint and clothes full of bloody holes. His eyes were a striking color against his pale paint, and his horns stuck up and out around the curly mess of hair that looked kind of like it could consume small mammals. “Girly?” He asks, his voice deep and kind of slow.

“Damn,” you say as you lean back to try and take him all in. “No fair. You’re like, thirty feet taller than me.” You whine and push yourself inside, giving a quick glance around. It looked about the same as your block had. “So the queen wants to see you too?”

“Uh, guess so,” Gamzee replies with a shrug and heading over to sit on the small loveseat by the wall. You follow him, plopping down and taking a deep breath. 

“So,” you start and finally cock your head to look at him. “Hear you kill people for a living. Sounds like fun. You kinda smell, though.”

“Heh,” he laughs and shrugs, leaning back against the cushions. He was suddenly really quiet, and you gave him a long stare, before averting your eyes to the wall. There was a tenseness in the air, for you at least. And you knew exactly why.

“So,” he starts and fiddles with his fingers. “I’ve known this for a long fuckin’ time but, damn girly you must’ve been one of the last to see ‘em... Like, I gots the knowledge that,” he turned his head, refusing to look at you, “they’re all kinds of up and gone, but yo, ain’t no motherfucker seem to go any explanations for a fellow like me. Mind gracing my thoughts with the truths of their cullings?”

Oh, how you had been dreading this. You swallow back the lump in your throat, eyes resting on the points of your red boots. “Karkat, um,” you pause, peeking at him. He was looking at you now, with wide eyes and a sad gaze. Oh fuck him. Fuck him for asking. “He gained a serious injury in his training to become a threshecutioner, and due to this he was culled because the doctors didn’t think there was anyway to save him.”

He nods, breathing out against his palms and hunching forward. His breathing sounds pained, and you can’t even look at him. “And Tavros,” you start, almost choking on your words. This had to be believable. You had to sound upset. “He had his legs and all that. Y’know.”

He was silent for a long few minutes, before finally nodding and swallowing the lump in his throat. “So, Karkat made it into the threshecutioners?”

“Yeah,” you reply dryly and take a long, deep breath.

“I bet he was so happy when he found out,” Gamzee said, smiling a bit through his sadness and taking a deep breath. “He wanted that more than anything.”

“He told me how badly he wanted to tell you,” you lie and place a hand on his shoulder. “He really, really missed you.”

“I miss him too,” he says quietly and your stomach sinks at bit at the present tense. Oh what a sad fuck nugget. 

Life is quiet for a long while, before you decide that being awkward and sad is the opposite of what Terezi Pyrope should be doing. Terezi Pyrope should making a mess and laughing up a storm. Terezi Pyrope should also stop thinking in third person. It’s pretentious, and you are not pretentious. Okay, you’re not that pretentious.

“I think I should get cleaned up,” he says finally and stands up. You nod in agreement, because he’s rather rank. The blood and guts on his clothing didn’t release a pleasant odor, and it made sitting next to him kind of a chore. He removed his bag from his sylladex, finding some clothes and ducking into the ablution chamber. 

You take a deep breath, shrugging and removing your palmhusk from your pocket. You open up Sollux’s secret Trollian look-a-like program, sifting through online contacts.

\--[ TA ] started trolling [ GC ]--  
TA: where are you now?  
TA: diid the 2hiip piick you up?  
GC: Y34H  
GC: 1T D1D  
GC: SO D1D YOU T4K3 MY 4DV1C3 4ND NOT 3ND4NG3R YOURS3LF BY HACK1NG TH3 QU33NS PR1V4T3 CH4T?????  
TA: nope.  
GC: D4MM1T  
TA: iit’2 all good gc.  
TA: what are you up two?  
GC: WOW  
GC: WOW WOW WOW  
GC: 1M SORRY 1M JUST  
GC: N4K3D CLOWN  
TA: holy 2hiit.  
GC: H3 L4UGH3D WH3N 1 TOLD H1M TO PUT PANTS ON  
GC: 1 M1GHT H4V3 4 NO P4NTS P4RTY W1TH 4 CLOWN  
GC: 4PP4R3NTLY H3 FORGOT 4 TOW3L  
TA: ii would have two dii2own you iif you had a no pant2 party wiith a clown 2orry terezii ii’m not datiing anyone who hump2 a clown.  
GC: W3 4R3NT 3V3N D4T1NG  
GC: 4R3 W3?  
TA: wow.  
TA: that was fuckiing 2tupiid.  
GC: YOUR3 FUCK1NG STUP1D  
GC: NOW 4R3 W3 MO1R41LS OR NOT  
TA: 2ure.  
TA: why the fuck not.  
GC: LOL 4W3SOM3  
TA: 2iince we are offiiciially moiiraiil2 ii expect you two tell me thiing2 liike why you’re iin a room wiith a naked clown.  
GC: H3S TRY1NG TO T4K3 4 SHOW3R B3C4US3 H3 W4S COV3R3D 1N BLOOD  
TA: that explaiin2 everythiing.  
GC: >:]  
TA: who ii2 the guy?  
GC: 1TS G4MZ33  
GC: M4K4R4  
TA: wow that really doe2 explaiin everythiing.  
TA: ii 2tiill forbiid the no pant2 party.  
GC: YOUR3 NO FUN  
GC: BUT S3R1OUSLY  
GC: H3S R34LLY D1FF3R3NT  
GC: TH3 SUBJUGGL4TORS H4V3 FUCK3D H1M OV3R PR3TTY B4DLY  
TA: that’2 what thii2 empiire doe2 two people iit fuck2 them over 2o bad that they aren’t even recogniizable anymore.  
GC: 1 H4D TO L13 TO H1M  
GC: 1 H4D TO T3LL H1M HOW K4RKL3S 4ND T4VROS D13D  
TA: oh.  
GC: H3 CR13D  
TA: 2hould we tell kk?  
GC: 1 DONT KNOW  
GC: >:?  
GC: 1 M34N WH4T GOOD WOULD 1T DO???  
GC: 1 C4NT 3X4CTLY B3 L1K3   
GC: H3Y  
GC: CLOWN  
GC: W4NN4 JO1N TH3 R3B3LL1ON  
TA: ii don’t know.  
TA: he miight be liike “lol okay.”  
GC: TRU3  
GC: HUH M4YB3  
GC: 1M GONN4 SP3ND SOM3 MOR3 T1M3 W1TH TH3 GUY F1RST  
GC: JUST TO B3 C4R3FUL  
TA: remember ii forbiid the no pant2 party.  
GC: NO PROM1S3S

You finally tuck your palmhusk away into your pocket, glancing up and listening to the dull hum of water on the chamber floor. Now started your long day of getting to know the clown. Starting with, well, his ass. You definitely just saw his ass not even five minutes ago. That was a good start.

**Karkat:**

Your feet slam against the metal flooring as you hurry down the long hallway, cloak flowing behind you and the chains on your boots clinking with each footstep. Finally you punch in the code of the airtight door at the end of the hall and it slides open. You enter the large room, which was dark besides the light coming from the computer screens. Sollux had at least twenty separate desktops plastered throughout the room, and a floor littered with wrappers and empty bottles and wires and various technology. You enter the room, groaning a bit as he pushes back from his current location, his hover chair gliding over the mess on the floor as he spun around and began typing on a laptop in the corner as it dinged.

“Hey dingus,” you start, leaning up against the curved desk and arching a thick brow at him. He glances up like you’ve startled him, and he quickly closes the laptop he’s on and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and intertwining his fingers underneath his chin.

“I apologize for not acknowledging your existence sooner, my highness. How may I serve you? Should I prostrate myself at your feet?” His tone is thick with sarcasm, and you’re both annoyed and a little suspicious as to why closing that laptop was necessary. 

“What’s on the laptop? You closed it damn quickly when you noticed I was here.”

“Porn.” Sollux replies, shrugging his shoulders and putting his hands up. “Felt like getting down to papping myself and all that jazz. Me and GC finally tied the pale knot and I’m pile rusty.” 

You can’t tell if he’s lying, but you don’t care. “About fucking time!” You throw your hands up, turning in a circle and wandering around the free space that you had. “Y’all have been waxing pale for each other for sweeps, at least!”

Sollux rolls his eyes, hovering backwards and turning around to face another computer. He began typing away, switching through screens like lightning until he opens up a black screen and begins typing in a series of codes.

“Anyway,” you cough, reasserting yourself. “The ship. I wanted to ask about the ship.”

“009 is still in repair. No new news.” He said blankly, not totally there as he continues to type. You swear his fingers blur a little at the speed they’re going. How fast could the guy type? Two hundred and twenty two words a minute? Something like that.

“Not the 009, you moron.” You approach the other’s chair, grabbing the back and pulling him away from the computer. His fingers continue moving for a whole second after that before he realizes they’re no longer hitting keys and he turns to give you one of these most pissed off looks. “The Jaxon 3K.”

“Oh,” he says, and you feel a little shock as he lightly zaps you with his psionics and you hiss as he scoots forward, back to computer. He begins typing again, opening what appears to be a map of some sort and continues on typing until it’s zoomed in on a red dot. “There. The Jaxon 3K. It’s scheduled to meet up with the Hayek 20202 tomorrow night, pretty late. Almost daylight hours. It’s on our way if it stays towards it’s current coordinates.”

“Good. Keep an eye on it and make sure it does stay on it’s coordinates,” you order, glancing around the room at the mess of brightly lit screens. “It’s not a large ship, but it’s mostly lowbloods. Lowbloods being shipped to other ships because obviously they’re unhappy with something. Meaning their minds will be malleable. Won’t be a huge win for us but... Fuck, a couple more people are always a nice asset to the war effort.”

“Should I type a notice?” Sollux glances up at you, but he looks a little exhausted and very reluctant.

“No. I’ll do it.” You say, with a bit too much bite in your tone. He shouldn’t look so damn tired. He sits on his ass all day and apparently watches fucking porn so it’s not like he doesn't have free time. “Just, which fucking computer can I use?”

Sollux jerks his head to the one at the end, which was just sitting on a Trollian log in page. You yank one of the hover chairs from the corner over and plop down in it. You quickly log into the fake Trollian 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CG 0:00 HOURS AGO opened memo on board LISTEN UP YOU FUCKSTICKS.  
CG: DON’T FUCKING RESPOND TO THE MEMOS.  
CG: IF YOU’VE GOT ANY QUESTIONS PM THEM TO ME AND I WILL COVER THEM THERE OR ON THIS MEMO.  
CG: DO *NOT* FUCKING RESPOND.  
CG: GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULLS.  
CG: ANYWAY.  
CG: TOMORROW MORNING WE ARE GOING TO HIJACK A SHIP CALLED THE JAXON 3K.  
CG: IT’S A SHIP THAT TRANSPORTS TROLLS WHO ARE TO BE RELOCATED TO ANOTHER SHIP.  
CG: MOSTLY MID TO LOW BLOODS WHO ARE MOIRAILS TO SOMEONE ON THE HIGHER SHIPS.  
CG: ACCORDING TO OUR RECENT ASPECTS ITS GOT A FEW BLUEBLOODS FOR GUARDS BUT NOTHING WE CAN’T HANDLE.  
CG: IT’LL BE AN EASY WIN FOR US, PLUS IT’LL BE TRANSPORTING CLOSE TO TWO HUNDRED TROLLS.   
CG: AS WELL AS US GAINING ANOTHER SHIP FOR OUR OWN USES.  
CG: WOW, SOMEBODY PRIVATE MESSAGED ME A QUESTION! THANK FUCK SOMEONE HAS A GODDAMN WORKING THINK PAN.  
CG: “ARE WE GOING TO KILL THE TROLLS WHO DO NOT OBEY US?”  
CG: WE’RE GOING TO DO OUR BEST TO MAKE JOINING THE REBELLION SEEM AS SWEET AS FUCKING POSSIBLE.  
CG: YOU WANNA FIGHT FOR YOUR LIBERATION? YOU WANT THE FREEDOM AND BENEFITS OF NOT BEING TREATED LIKE A SECOND RATE CITIZEN? DO YOU JUST HATE THE GOVERMENT AND CRAVE ANARCHY?  
CG: I’LL GET OUR COMPUTER GUY TO MAKE FLIERS RIGHT FUCKING AWAY.  
CG: THE ANSWER IS HOPEFULLY FUCKING NOT.  
CG: HOPEFULLY WE WON’T HAVE TO KILL MANY OF THEM. I DON’T WANT TO KILL THEM. IF WE HAVE ANY PEOPLE WHO PEACEFULLY REJECT US WE CAN JUST WIPE THEIR MINDS AND DROP THEM OFF SOMEWHERE, MAYBE.   
CG: PROBABLY LAUNCH THEM OFF IN AN ESCAPE POD.  
CG: IF ANYONE TRIES TO GET VIOLENT, THOUGH, WE WILL NOT HESITATE TO STRIKE THEM DOWN.  
CG: MAYBE WE’LL BLAST SOME TROLL GREEN DAY AND GET EVERYONE PUMPED UP ENOUGH TO OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT AND WE WON’T HAVE ANY CASUALTIES.   
CG: SOMEBODY JUST MESSAGED ME THAT GREEN DAY SUCKS.  
CG: HINT: IT WAS COMPUTER GUY.  
CG: FUCK YOU COMPUTER GUY.  
[TA] 0:00 HOURS AGO responded to memo.  
TA: ii know you want two.  
CG banned TA from responding to the memo.  
TA unbanned themselves from responding to the memo because fuck you kk.  
TA: 2uck my bulge.  
CG: THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A SERIOUS CONVERSATION.  
TA: can ii have a cooler name than fuckiing computer guy??  
TA: liike  
TA: ii diidn’t agree two thii2 2hiit.  
CG: OTHER LEADER GUY AND I ARE ALREADY WORKING ON NEWER, COOLER CODENAMES.  
CG: WE LET 413 PICK THE ORIGINAL CODENAMES AND I CAN’T GET NO FUCKING RESPECT GOING UNDER THE NAME OF A PORN NOVEL.  
TA: *your favoriite porn novel.  
CG: FUCK  
CG: OFF  
CG: ANYWAY, ANY OTHER QUESTIONS.  
CG: THAT DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH GREEN DAY.  
CG: WE’RE DONE TALKING ABOUT GREEN DAY.  
TA: let’2 talk about troll lady gaga.  
CG: LET’S TALK ABOUT THE TROLLS WE’RE GOING TO KIDNAP AND CONVINCE TO JOIN OUR ARMY YOU IGNORANT SACK OF SHIT.  
CG: YOU ARE ALL OF FIVE FEET AWAY FROM ME AT THIS CURRENT MOMENT.  
CG: OW WHAT THE FUCK.  
CG: HE THREW A GRANOLA BAR AT ME.  
CG: THIS IS BULLSHIT.  
CG: FUCK THIS MEMO I QUIT.

CG closed memo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Terezi:**

You find yourself perking awake at the sound of movement, peering over through the dimly lit room at the clown who was sliding into a pair of pants by his bag which is located on the floor. You blink a few times, reaching up to rub your eyes underneath your glasses. You cough a bit, sitting up and fluffing your messy bangs out of your face.

“Ey,” he says, turning to look at you and cracking a grin. You let your eyes trail over the scars and cuts along his bare chest and shoulders, as well as his clean face. You never could’ve imagined how much of a difference facepaint made on a person. Did he have dimples? Damn, he had dimples.

“Hey,” you mutter back as you move your feet off of the couch and stretch your arms high up above your head. “You’re like, way hotter without the paint.” You inform him, feeling the phone in your pocket buzz several times. You ignore it.

He snorts, shaking his head and his wet curls bounce about as he slinks over and collapses onto the couch next to you, yanking his legs up to rest his chin on his knees and giving you a goofy smirk with those ridiculously large teeth. “Glad I’m all up and pleasin’ your oculars or whatever. A motherfuckin’ damn fine pleasure.”

You arch your brows at him, reaching out to yank on a little ringlet. You yank until it’s perfectly straight, before letting go and watching it bounce back into place. He laughs, cocking his head at you and he’s surprisingly like you always imagined he’d be. An idiot.

“So y’know,” he starts, glancing off at the wall as he gathers his words. “I’m been down to like, really gettin’ the gears in my pan spinnin’, right? And I’ve been down the mental motherfuckin’ golden road that, shit sista, the queeny might be like, callin’ me in to up and serve and die and shit. Like, there ain’t a guarantee I’m gon’ be comin’ home ever, ever ‘gain.”

His voice is slow, his words slurring together a little and make a mental note that nobody ever properly schoolfed this guy on how to properly enunciate. Or, how grammar works. Or sentence structure. 

“Yeah, and?” You finally add, realizing he was waiting for a reply. You blink a few times, watching as he finally shrugs and raises his hands in an “I dunno” gesture.

“Ain’t sure, chica. Just, got to like, lullin’ it over in my psyche. Just thought maybe... Y’know, this could be like, the last chance I’s even gots to like, ever do anything stellar. Feels like I should be gettin’ the gumption to up and like, party or some shit.”

Your brows raise, but finally, you decide that’s a damn good idea. You couldn’t remember the last time you genuinely let loose and drank too much soda and sung along too loudly to troll Katy Perry. “I have a ton of music on my palmhusk,” you admit, reaching in your pocket and deleting quickly all the notifications from Trollian and logging out. You click the music icon at the bottom of your screen, before handing the phone over. “You got anything good?”

“Faygo?” He glances up, and you finally nod and decide that sounds good. Faygo is only kind of horrible sometimes. You slide off of the couch, stretching and taking your phone back. You put it on shuffle and turn the volume all the way up, tossing it onto the couch and ready to dance to whatever song came on first. Gamzee moved, ejecting some bottles from his sylladex and you crack open one of them. Clinging the plastic bottles together in a sorry excuse for a toast, the two of you get to drinking.

Most of the ship is quiet, besides the daytime workers. Everyone else is curled up in their recuperacoons, fast asleep like little grubs. But not you two. You two were dancing, in a mess of twirling and saying and laughing. A few bottles accumulated on the floor as the two of you finally joined hands, playfully rocking your bodies together to some troll Lady Gaga as you tilt your head back and cackle loudly. “Oh my gooooood!” You snort, leaning your head forward to bury it against his chest as you continue to laugh. He’s a little wobbly himself, so you think it’s safe to say the two of you have both had quite a bit to drink and were a little high on life.

“I have not had this much fun since the giant grad party we all had when I finished my Law degree!” You chime, a hand moving to loop around his neck as you shake your head and take in the scent of whatever body wash he used. Nice.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had this much motherfuckin’ fun. Shit’s got a nice little buzz ‘bouts it, ya dig?” He chuckles, and you have no fucking clue what the hell he just said. You don’t even care. 

“Mmmm, you know Mr. Makara,” you start, pulling back and chuckling at him. “I still can’t believe how big you’ve gotten.” You mutter, admiring how his horns almost touch the ceiling. He must have to duck to get through the doorways. “I dunno how you don’t have to fight off trolls who want a chance at a quadrant with you.”

His cheeks go a little purple, and he shakes his head, his fluffy curls bouncing and you kind of want to touch them. “Ehh, nah girly. Most of my filial pails been done with fillers, if ya get my drift.”

“Mmmm,” you hum, nodding. “Same. Always a hassle running around last minute trying to find someone who’s ready to get off into a bucket with you, you know. Law is a busy, busy, buuuuusy job! I don’t have time for filling all of these quadrants!” You whine, closing your eyes and hugging your arms around his waist as you too simply fumble about, swaying with no rhythm whatsoever. 

“Y’know girly,” he starts after a moment, one of his large hands resting on the back of your head as the two of you did your best to avoid stepping on each other's toes. “I know some trolls who gots like, a semi-permanent filler, if ya feel me. Like, every sweep they meet up with one another to do the nasty when the drones call and they ain’t really quadrantmates but, they got each other's spinal sections.”

“Mmmm,” you lull that over, eying a large scar trailing along his skin below a pec. It looked about half a sweep old, maybe longer. “That sounds soooo nice! That would save me so many issues like... Pitching to someone how great sex with you is even while a giant murderous drone with a really big culling fork is watching is not an easy task!”

He chuckles above you, leaning down and you feel his nose press to the base of one of your horns. “I was just like... Y’know like... Speculatin’ some major shit and all, and like, what if we... Did that and all?”

You blink a few times, pulling back and tilting your head a little. “Huh.” You say, trying to process that through your soda-stupored brain. “You... You got a good point. But like... What if you aren’t any good?” You suggest, tilting your head further back to look up at him. “I can’t just... Agree to have sex with you once a sweep unless it’s going to be super great.”

“Well what if... What if we like...” He blinks a few times, and you can tell the Faygo is really getting to him too. He wasn’t great at talking before, so his words were really starting to mingle too much. He has drank a lot more than you, as well. Most of the bottles on the floor were his. “What if we like... Did the do?”

“Right now?” You blink a few times, glancing around the room and finally shrugging your shoulders. “Sure!” Because why the hell not. The guy might die in a few days anyway. And if not... Having sex with a clown probably won’t be _that_ bad... Plus, he just showered.

He looks a little shocked that you actually agreed to this, but you pull back and yank on one of his large paws until he’s by the loveseat, and carefully push him down onto it’s cushioned surface. Crawling slowly on his lap, you straddle him carefully and wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss him, and at first it’s cold and a little sloppy, but it heats up as your lips mesh together at a needier pace. Your chest presses close to his, as his hands grip your narrow hips tightly and within moments your hands were on his horns. Horns like that were simply meant to play as handlebars, anyway.

Tongue slowly sliding over his, gliding past his large teeth. You tilt his head back with his horns, whining loudly into his mouth as his hands glide up your back. Each inch of you feels oddly alive, like you’ve been charged with electricity. Every touch felt teasing, like it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy what you were craving. He tastes like soda and it’s not _enough_.

***

The nasally alarm blares throughout the vessel and you startle awake, managing to roll right off Gamzee’s cool body and land on the floor. You stare at the ceiling for a long moment, sitting up and trying to make sense of everything. Terezi Pyrope. That’s right. You’re Terezi. That’s Gamzee. You’re naked. He’s naked. That’s a very loud alarm. He’s still asleep.

You reach up, fluffing your hair back and glancing up at his nude body as he continues to slumber, managing to completely ignore the loud alarm. You turn, examining the amount of soda bottles littering the floor as well. Damn. You roll over onto your knees, fumbling around until you’ve found all of your clothes and manage to slide them on as quickly as you possibly can manage. You uncapchalogue the necklaces from your sylladex. In a moment of panic, you had shoved both in your sylladex before Gamzee had managed to see them last morning. You carefully shove them under your collar, before buttoning it up and sliding into your boots. You stop, realizing your phone was on the couch. Meaning it was probably underneath of Gamzee.

You groan, stumbling over tiredly and shaking his lavender-flushed body. “Hey! Get up!!” You whine, finally reaching down to pinch the skin at the base of his bulge. His eyes pop open, squeaking loudly and pushing you off. He sits up, legs curling and gawking at you for a long moment.

“I couldn’t get my phone from under you!” You shrug, reaching over to grab the phone from the spot on the couch. It’s managed to leave an indent in Gamzee’s skin along his back where he had been pressed up against it. It looked fine, though. “The alarm just went off. Get dressed.” You tell him, tucking your phone away in your pocket. You stretch, cracking your back and heading for the door. You slip out of it quietly, turning and stopping in your tracks as you notice Vriska standing in front of your door.

She glances up at you, looking confused. It takes her a long moment and her eyes suddenly grow wide, before slipping to disgust, and finally, hysterics. “OH MY GOD!” She howls, bending over in laughter and slapping her knee before turning to walk away, rounding a circle and walking back towards you. “What the hell??? A clown? Terezi! Oh my god!”

“Shut up!” You hiss, grabbing her wrist as you yank her far down the hall and away from Gamzee’s door. “Jeez, just... We were both really drunk... And... It wasn’t... Bad.”

“Oh my god,” Vriska puts her hands over her mouth, shaking her head and staring at the ceiling for a long moment. “You let a clown put his bulge in you. Just, oh. My. God.”

“I get it!” You whine, reaching up to try and pat down your hair. “Just, make me not look like hell.” You instruct her. She takes a moment, but she reaches up to run her fingers through your hair. Once it looks decent, she pulls back and begins adjusting your clothes until you look like you’re in order again. 

“You should’ve showered, considering you smell like clown sex. But, we don’t have much time now. The breakfast hall will be serving shortly and everyone snatches up the good stuff first.” She uncapchalogues a blue bottle and spurts you with it a few times, before spraying herself and putting it away. “Come on! I’m meeting up with Equius so he can show us where we’re going. I’ve been on this ship two fucking days and I still can’t find anything!” 

Nodding, you follow after her and observe your surroundings. It looked just like most of the vessels you had been on. Pipes and fluorescent lighting on the ceiling, bolted metal walls and floors with the occasional round window looking out at the stars. 

Vriska stops at a fork, staring at the length of the hall in front of you two, and then the one to the right. “I think I go right? But no, we’re meeting at his block... Blocks at this way,” she says, finally continuing straight and you simply follow her. You have no idea where you all are going anyway. 

Finally you both spot Equius down the hall and Vriska is obviously relieved. She picks up her pace, and you keep close as you approach the large troll. His arms were like about the same thickness as your waist, you think to yourself as he stares at his small palmhusk and continues to type furiously.

“One moment,” he mumbles as sweat drips down his brow and he looks quite blue in the face. “Nepeta visited the infirmary a few hours ago with a broken rib.” He says quickly, and you nod and wonder what happened. You hadn’t seen or spoken to Nepeta in such a long time. You really should give her a message sometime.

“She says it was a training accident but... I’m having her relocated to this ship.” He finally glances up at the two of you. “The Jaxon 3K is already docking with her ship so she’ll just be one more passenger when they meet tonight.” 

“Yeah,” Vriska replies with a dry shrug. “Leaving her on a ship of bluebloods , while her being a pretty strong girl, still would totally fuck her up. That ship is mostly newer cadets and you know how they like to fuck with the lowblooded soldiers.” Equius looks at her, looking quite nervous at her statement before turning his view downwards and starting in the direction the two of you had just came from. 

“Let’s go to breakfast,” is all he says as he continues and you follow. It doesn’t take you long to find the turn a little ways back, and without a hitch of course Gamzee is standing there assessing both directions when you guys come along.

“Highblood,” Equius refers to Gamzee, even giving a quick bow before offering to show Gamzee the way to the cafeteria.

“Shit, yeah motherfuck. That would be all kinds of splendid and shit. I been up and wanderin’ for like, who knows how long? But goddamn, ton of fuckin’ windows in this place. You can see the city through them damn windows, too. We gettin’ hella motherfuckin’ close to the drop zone.” 

Equius nods, before walking and seemingly trying to ignore and pay attention to Gamzee all at once. You don’t look at Gamzee too much. You don’t know what to say to him, anyways. And he doesn’t seem like he’s too eager to speak, so you take that as a “we’ll deal with this later.”

You’re very thankful for that.

***

You follow on Vriska’s heels as she escorts Gamzee and you from the vessel and onto the metal dock. The air here smells like sea water, and Gamzee looks a little wistful upon catching the scent. You, on the other hand, dislike the scent.

“Hurry up!” Vriska starts, already halfway down the walkway away from the ship and you quickly dart after her, heels clicking against the dotted metal until you were close again. “This isn’t a grand tour or anything. I’m just supposed to drop you off at the palace and then escort Makara to the downtown office!” She shoves her hands in her pockets, passing a few trolls carrying boxes around and a few blow whistles in the general direction of the three of you. Vriska groans, removing her sword from her side and flicking her thumb against the base so it popped out of it’s sheath and all cat calls went silent.

“That usually shuts men up,” Vriska replied with a smirk, patting her blade at her side and approaching the tall chain link gate that held the exit to the small harbor. Vriska flashes the guard an ID card, and he opens the lock and lets the three of you through. You slide through the back door of the harbor’s headquarters and inside is stuffy and blue in color and all the trolls inside were sweaty. You make a face, scrunching up your nose as you march down the little hall and Vriska stops by the front desk. 

“Is the bug here?” She asks, to which the tired looking troll behind the desk jerks his head towards the front door and Vriska simply nods. You glance back, making sure Gamzee hadn’t stopped to stare at anything and quickly realized you were doting on him. Ew. Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ewwwwwwwwwwwwww. 

You turn back to keep your eyes on Vriska, leaving through the front door and finally you get an actual view of the imperial city. Beautiful sparkling stone streets and large street lights with clams for tops. The streets were filled with vehicular arthropods, scurrying along the roads at decent speeds. You notice Gamzee gawking too, and even Vriska looks a little awed for a long moment. But finally, she waves the two of you into the back of the VA with her and you slide into the leather seats and roll down the window to peer out at the well lit city streets. 

“Motherfuckin’ beaut, that there is...” Gamzee mutters next to you, and you simply nod and brush some hair behind your ears. The VA begins moving, it’s legs scurrying along the street and the cabin swaying in a slight back and forth motion. “Reckon they kill these big here bugs to make these portable lil’ transporters?”

“I would certainly hope the thing wasn’t alive. Y’know, considering it’s full of metal and forced to carry intelligent beings around all the time. They probably kill them so they don’t eat any of the trolls.” You shrug, and Gamzee nods as he examines the inside of the arthropod. You assume he’s never seen one before. You had ridden in them quite a few times in the past. In your hive city where you reside when you’re not on important law duties or busy furthering the rebellion, you are often on base and see prisoners off in these vehicles. 

“Ey, so Vris,” Gamzee starts, turning to look at her on his other side. You glance up, realizing he’s ducking his head. His horns were stabbing into the top of the vehicle. Jeez, he’s so big. “What’s been in the haps and all for a scary girly like you?”

“Scary?” She arches a brow, before turning a little blue and smirking. “Thanks! Well, I am a Sergeant-General in the army vessel The Maryette 8x8.” She says this like she’s so proud, and well, she had every right to be. The Maryette was a famous battleship, operating directly under the Condesce and all those aboard it was viewed as the best of the best. 

“Dang,” Gamzee blinks a few times, nodding. “Shit’s good, spidey princess. Hella motherfuckin’ good. Flyin’ fuckin’ colors.” 

“Damn straight!” Vriska replies, nodding her head with a bit too much gusto and leaning back in her seat smugly. “Passed the Academy at the top of my class!”

“I’m calling bullshit!” You interject, leaning forward to see past Gamzee to her. “You are hot-headed!”

“Yeah, well that makes me a good fighter! I got high marks for my ability to make critical decisions quickly! And, I don’t hesitate before a kill. Condy isn’t looking for level-headed individuals who spend too much time worrying. She wants quick thinkers who can get shit done!”

“Mmmhmm,” you say with a roll of your eyes and plop backwards into your spot. “You’re better at fucking shit up, if you ask me!”

“I’ve grown up, Pyrope!” She insists, flipping her hair a little extravagantly. “I’m simply the best at everything. Admit it! You’re jealous!” She grins, leaning forward to peer at you from around the clown. 

“In your dreams!” You burst, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “The idea of me being jealous of you is utterly ridiculous! I am a well-respected legislacerator! I have an assistant and I get to hang people. And my assistant has to bring me lattes if I ask. Do you have a person to bring you lattes? Didn’t think so!”

“Oh snoozeeeee!” Vriska says, waving her hands and shaking her head as she folds her arms and leans back again. “I don’t need lattes when I can sip the blood of the people I’ve struck down!”

“Yeah, well blood does not come in caramel flavor, does it? Meaning it is not nearly as delicious as lattes. Your point is moot.” You retort, shaking your head. “Besides, lattes are like three dollars at Trollbucks and I don’t have to ruin my clothes by murdering someone to get them.”

Vriska looks like she’s about to reply, but suddenly the VA comes to a stop and the driver turns to look at you. 

“We’re at the palace,” he says in a dry voice, and you almost frown. You were honestly having a boatload of fun and idea of departing was definitely not tempting.

“I’ll see you afterwards?” You ask, turning to look at Vriska.

“Dunno.” Vriska replies, shrugging and pulling out her phone. "I don’t know if I’m getting back on the Sirius. I’ll text you when I get the email.”

You nod, and you reach out to shake her hand. It’s a firm handshake, and you give Gamzee a playful fistbump before leaving the car. It was only then that you turn to look at the palace. And holy. Fucking. Shit.

Grand in structure and design, the palace stood several stories high and the distant sound of the ocean behind it accompanied it’s elegance. Upon flashing an ID card, the guards buzz open the front gates and you start down the white walkway. The lights gleam off it’s surface, and it’s only then that you notice it’s made of pearls. A slave with endless bags of pearls had to carefully cover this entire walkway in these expensive little jewels. You stare in bewilderment, before quickly starting up your walk again. The doors are large, and carved into their structure were ferocious merpeople and bubbling coral reefs. 

The doors opened after a long moment, and even the beauty of outside had not prepared you for the pure extravagance of what was hidden inside. The floors lined with marble and fuchsia carpet, and the ceiling was nothing but an aquarium filled with colorful fish. The walls were lined with gold rimmed masterpieces and handcut curtains made of the finest silk. Greek-style pillars lined the archways, and into their pale surface were carved the image of countless sanddollars, creeping up either side.

You stare at the man who approaches you, looking disgruntled and a little snobbish. But it doesn’t take you long to recognize him. “Eridan?” You arch a brow, and he looks a little miffed.

“Yes.” He waves his hand, and you follow as he begins down the long hallways. “Hi Ter. How you been?”

“Good.” You reply, a little confused. “Just saw Vriska and Gamzee in the VA. But... What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was called in last night.” He says in reply, hands sliding into his pockets and his cape wavering behind him as he kept up his fast pace. It was almost like he wanted to keep wind blowing in the damn thing. So fucking dramatic. “Ain’t really allowed to spill specifics, if ya get what I mean. Royal business and all.”

“Ah,” you reply softly as you follow alongside him. His face is stoic and pompous, with a wardrobe to match. Gosh, he’s so funny looking. You roll your eyes finally, just taking in the the complicated paintings lining the walls. Victories for Alternia. That’s what they all seem to be depicting. “So, what have you been up to?”

“I work for the queen,” he says like it should’ve been obvious. “I’m always on call for whenever she needs me. I also oversee the training camp that supplies most of the generals for our fleets.”

“Coolio.” You cluck your tongue, and he almost looks offended at your lack of compliments. “I’m a legislacerator. I hang crooks and drink a lot of caffeinated drinks.”

“Well, I guess I’m happy for you. You wanted to be a legislacerator, right?”

“Duh!” You roll your own eyes, shoving your hands into your skirt pockets and kicking your feet up a tad too high as you walk. “I’ve been dreaming of this job since I was like... Mmm, probably in a pail!”

“Disgustin’.” He turns his nub up at the idea, rolling his eyes and glancing away. “Really fuckin’ disgustin’, Ter.”

“True facts, though! I was destined for this.” You grin, watching as you turn a corner and approach a large staircase. The most beautiful staircase, carved of gleaming white marble. A separate staircase went downward, descending into what appeared to be water, while the other went upward. You follow Eridan up the top case, peering down at the water that crashes lazily against the stone footsteps.

“This place must’ve cost a lot,” you say, because you don’t know what else to say. The entire place was probably funded mostly on slave labor and those who fear for their lives. Your heels clink loudly against the marble surface, and the staircase definitely seems a little endless. But, as the two of you continue on you catch sight of another troll on the stairwell, seeming to ask assistance of a slave who had been cleaning the staircase.

“Kan?” Eridan blurts out, looking a little starstruck as he quickly took the stairs a few at a time to stand next to the tall jadeblood. She glances to him, brows knitting under her perfectly pruned dark bangs. 

“Eridan? Oh my.” She says softly, glancing up at you and you wave your hand and she looks a little perplexed. “What... What are you doing here?” She asks again, finally glancing to Eridan again.

“I have been requested by the queen for some important royal duties... Same with Ter here, apparently.” He jerks his thumb back at you, and the slave on the staircase glances downward as they descend the staircase and leave your sight.

“Yeah,” you say, rolling your shoulders like a shrug. “I haven’t been told anything. I just got this random urgent email saying that a ship was going to pick me up at the asscrack of dawn and to be ready to get on the vessel.”

“How peculiar...” Kanaya says softly, chewing her lip daintly. “And how odd and incredibly unlikely that it should be the three of us who have met up like this.”

“Vriska and Gamzee were with me,” you offer up. “But they had to go downtown for something. Dunno if I’ll see them again before I have to leave.” You shrug your shoulders, glancing to Eridan who is looking onward.

“We should keep walkin’. Kan, you’re more likely to find wherever you need to be if you’re walkin’ with somebody important like me. And Ter, I guess.”

“Youngest Legislacerator, like, ever.” You nod a few times, following Eridan up the tall staircase and it isn’t long before you’re wandering down a long hall with a thin film of saltwater under your feet. Kanaya looks obviously displeased, considering her shoes are suede. She looks incredibly displeased, huffing aloud and you try not to snicker at her.

Upon reaching the end of the hall, two guards stop you by thrusting their tridents in front of your path. “Excuse me,” Eridan speaks, sounding a little offended as he adjusts ahab crosshairs over his shoulder. “I am Eridan Ampora.”

“It’s just usual business, Ampora.” One of the guards replies, retracting his trident. “Her Highness makes us do it for everyone.”

Eridan doesn’t look very impressed, but soon enough the door opens and you’re viewing a large room, chock full of seashell shaped chairs and a coffee table and an elevator panel and a large throne. Her Imperial Condescention is much larger than you would have ever anticipated, and you are quite sure her hair could probably consume you.

“Whale, whale, whale...” She trails off, glancing over the there of you. “Pyrope, wait out there.”

You seem a little surprised, but you do not argue. You step aside, and the doors close as soon as Eridan and Kanaya are inside. You lean up against the wall, nodding at the guards a few times. “So... How’s this? Y’know, standing here all day and not doing shit?”

No reply.

“Must be so boring!” You nod a few times, reaching up to take a hat off one of the guards. He doesn’t seem to react, but you notice the vein in his neck tensing. You put the hat atop your head. grinning and snorting loudly. “God, you guys wear the stupidest fucking hearwear. The Empress’ taste is really interesting, huh?”

Nothing.

You stand in front of the guard, waving your arms and blowing air into his eyes but he still doesn’t budge. The other guard, who had responded to Eridan, was watching you and looking a little nervous. 

“Is your buddy always this stiff?” You arch your brows at him, snorting and putting the dude’s hat back on. He doesn’t react, and you’re kind of getting bored. You finally lean back against the wall, staring at the fish swimming around the ceiling and when the large double doors finally creak open Kanaya looks a little startled and quite gloomy. You assume she has just learned that she will be spending much more time with Eridan Ampora than she has ever bargained for. 

She glances to you, sighing and shaking her head. Shortly after Eridan follows up behind her, waving his hand and she follows him reluctantly. You enter the throne room, giving another long glance around and arching your brows at the queen. “Your highness,” you reply, even curtseying and she yawns and points to a seashell shaped chair. You take a seat, glancing upwards at the queen and she taps her fingers on the edge of her throne for a long moment as the two of you continue to simply stare back and forth.

“So, got a fuckin’ promotion, did ya?” She says suddenly, the tips of her perfectly manicured claws clinking in an annoying pattern repeatedly against the cold surface of her armrest. 

“Yup. That I did. Youngest legislacerator ever, but I’m sure you already knew that.” You nod, twiddling your thumbs in your lap and keeping your guard up. 

“Shit’s balls to the walls crayzy, ain’t it?” She leans back, huffing softly and pursing her lips at you for a long moment. “Got’s a present for you. For your goody two-shells behavior and all, y’know.”

“Really?" You perk up, more surprised than anything. You weigh that over, before nodding. “I hope it wasn’t too expensive.” You say, knowing she had all the money in the world.

“Didn’t pay for it.” She retorts. She’s still for a long moment, before placing her hands on her armrests and using them to push herself up onto her feet. She begins wandering about the room, her own heels clicking against the ground as she finally claps. ‘I got you a whole batch of lows.”

“Oh.” You almost bite your tongue, unsure of how to respond. “I’m not really home much... I wouldn’t make good use of slaves.”

“Reely?” She arches her brow high as she looks at you, before looking back to the wall. “Fine. Guards, cull the whole lot of ‘em. I have no use for those things.”

Something pricks at your stomach wrong upon hearing those words. You chew your inner lip for a long moment, before shaking your head. “Y’know... I could probably use them for something.” You almost regret the words as soon as you say them, but you keep talking. “I think coming back to a hive that feels a little more lived in and a little less abandoned would be... Nice.”

She turns, a smirk pressing up on her thick, painted lips, and she nods. “Exactly what I was fuckin’ gettin’ at. I’s even arranged a private vessel to retrieve your lil’ ship and come here for yous and your new shiny property.”

“You are too kind.” You reply, having the urge to vomit upon speaking such words. “I really appreciate that, your highness.”

“Stop that.” She says, peering up at you. “Highness is reserved for a prawncess. I’m your motherfuckin’ majesty.” She says, a bit of venom in her voice and you don’t know what to say. You feel a little choked up. Finally she claps her hands again, glancing up at the guards. “Brand ‘em. Y’know, the slaves.”

You want to speak out, but the guard is quick to leave and you don’t really have much to say after that. You take a deep breath, glancing at your feet.

You are now going to have a hive full of slaves. A secret terrorist who needs to keep lots of secrets, was going to have a bunch of slaves just wandering about her home. 

You were so screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ilysm for reading all of this thank u guys so much

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow me on tumblr [here](gamkartrash.tumblr.com/)


End file.
